


what can and cannot be

by WickedSong



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest VIII
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, during-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 08:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedSong/pseuds/WickedSong
Summary: Two great loves that could never be, and one that would.
Relationships: Eltrio/Xia, Hero (Dragon Quest VIII)/Medea (Dragon Quest), Unnamed Princess of Trodain/Unnamed Prince of Argonia
Kudos: 6





	what can and cannot be

**Author's Note:**

> -*looks at when I first wrote this* 2018???? Yes, this has been languishing in my drafts for that long. I just never knew how to finish it, but I'm trying to be more kind to myself, and posting things that I write and maybe are a little self-indulgent, but that I have put time and work into, and am proud of.
> 
> -That is a WIP, in itself tbh.

“The decision has been made, my dear. I’m sorry.”

But the Princess of Trodain could not bear her father’s, the King’s, word, though she knew, surely, that his ruling on this matter was law.

Her hands trembled, and she could feel herself wavering, as she reached out to appeal to the man before her.

“And what of-?”

Her father, at first, responded with a _humph_ of discontent.

“ _He_ will be returning to Argonia, with his father, before the day is out,” interrupted the King, sternly. “And then this _nonsense_ will be over. Finally, we can focus on finding you a-“

But whatever her father was going to say next was lost on the young Princess, as she turned on her heel, bolting for the throne room door. Though her father shouted for the guards to stop her, she had been outrunning his men for an impressively long time, and so was able to evade their – what seemed to be half-hearted, in her opinion - attempts to bar her path.

She could hear, once far enough away from the door, her father tutting away, about his men and their incompetence. The Princess quite agreed with his sentiment, but also knew it would only be a matter of time, until they found her again, and she was forced to her own chambers.

And if she didn’t act now, she might never see the Prince again. Though it tore her heart in two – the idea of not being able to wed him, as she had quite often dreamed – it was the urgency, of seeing him one last time, that propelled her to the guest wing of the castle.

The Princess could only hope that the Prince was unguarded, and found that luck was to be on her side, when that proved to be the case.

She could only assume that her father had recruited every available soldier into finding her. But it wouldn’t be long until their search brought them to this wing of the castle anyway.

Nervously, the Princess rapped her knuckles against the door. When there was no response, her heart only served to fall further, if that was at all possible.

Had Father lied when he said the Prince would be departing by the end of the day? Had they left already, and without even a word of goodbye. Surely not, surely he-

“You shouldn’t be here,” the voice said behind the door, and it knocked the Princess out of her thoughtful stupor. “If your father-“

“What can he do?” the Princess asked, relief flooding her heart at the sound of her beloved’s voice. “Lock me in my room for all eternity? So be it, if he does.”

“But-“

“Let me in,” implored the Princess. “ _Please_.”

And she thought, for a terrible moment, that he might say no, and send her away. That he might break her heart even further than their fathers, and their advisors, already had. That would be the greatest betrayal, in her mind.

So the Princess was happy, overjoyed even, when she heard the reassuring turn of the doorknob, and there was her Prince; beckoning her inside.

She didn’t hesitate for a second, throwing herself into his arms, without even looking to see if anyone was watching. He held her close, turning them around, as if shielding her from the cruel world.

She sunk further into his hold, at the reassuring click of the door. As the Prince pressed feather-light kisses to her temple, only then, too, did the Princess realise she was crying, as the reality of what she would miss, began to set in.

And all because of wars started, and battles fought, hundreds of years ago, by people neither of them had ever met; grudges and bad blood only made worse in the years that followed, by their own parents, no less.

The Prince’s kisses turned into a smile, against her forehead. The pair remained like that, for what seemed like a perfect eternity, gently swaying against each other’s arms, and with neither eager to let go yet.

“This is it, isn’t it?” he asked, finally, and so quietly, that it took the Princess a moment to realise he’d said anything at all. “But no one can say we didn’t _try_.”

She shook her head, though she knew his words to be the truth. Still, it was one she was loath to face; to admit, because admitting it meant letting him go, and she wasn’t quite ready to do that either.

Eventually, the Princess sighed, and swallowed down the lump in her throat, and looked up at him.

Hesitantly, she reached up, and placed a hand against his cheek.

“One day,” she said, trying to sound as hopeful as she could, “things will be different. It cannot be, not for us, but perhaps for those who come after.”

He nodded, taking her hand and pressing a gentle kiss against it. All of a sudden, he smiled down at her; and the Princess knew this particularly hopeful expression well. It meant he had an idea.

He’d worn that same face, a few days ago, when he’d suggested, after their failed attempt at elopement had been rumbled, that they simply try and _talk_ their fathers around to the idea of an alliance between Argonia and Trodain, cemented by marriage – the only way they might be able to be together.

The Princess despaired, as she recalled how terribly that had worked out. So many hurtful words had been thrown across the negotiation table on that day, and she’d never witnessed her father in such a foul mood.

“Yes,” said the Prince, eventually, nodding his head vigorously, as another plan seemed to form behind his eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly it!”

But the Princess couldn’t claim to understand what he meant. She searched his face, for an explanation, and he managed to smile at her, realising how truly confused she was.

“If I had a son, and you a daughter – or vice-versa – perhaps they could marry, where we cannot,” he explained. “It could bring our kingdoms together forever.”

“Not just in love,” replied the Princess, slowly nodding her head. “But in peace, too. Trodain and Argonia; united forever.”

But before he could say anything more, there was a harsh knock on the door.

“Princess, I know you’re in there! Come out, at once!”

The Princess sighed, at her father’s haughty exclamation. She knew he meant well, but he also couldn’t know how this hurt her, not _truly_.

She turned to her beloved, and nodded, even as the bangs on the door grew louder. She could hear her father giving instructions, for his men to find the King of Argonia – obviously he worried about causing some sort of incident, by just barging into the Prince’s room, even in his own castle.

It was the reminder the Princess did not want, of how fraught relations between their two kingdoms were.

But she could only be grateful, too, that it gave them at least a few extra minutes together.

“Promise me,” the Prince beseeched her. “Promise me that we’ll find peace, one day.”

The Princess nodded, and on her tip toes, sealed their promise with a kiss.

Their last one, as it would turn out, before the door was wretched open, and the King of Trodain, and King of Argonia, stood together – a united force, in this and this only.

Why, it would be in opposition of something as wonderful as love, that the two Kings would stand, the Princess didn’t think she would ever understand.

She was led by the arm by her father, as he muttered as her, though she barely listened to his admonishments. Instead, she looked back, but only once, as the Prince looked to prepare himself for a tongue-lashing from his own.

“I promise!” she called to the Prince; and he smiled, despite it all, at a vow their fathers would never be able to understand.

To the Princess, it became her most solemn vow, and a promise she was certain he would hold as close to his heart, as she now held to hers.

* * *

Their plan was a simple one, or so Xia had hoped, when she and Eltrio had agreed upon it.

They would elope, carving out a peaceful existence somewhere far from Argonia and the Dragovian Sanctuary, for at least a time. No one, not either of their fathers, or advisors, or the Dragovian Elders would be able to tell them what to do, once they were far enough away.

Once they were married, they would be joined forever. It was a bond that no force could hope to break asunder.

Xia felt hope flutter in her heart. It was hope that she’d thought extinguished on the day her father had finally tracked her down, in Argonia.

Already, she could see a happy future, with the man she loved.

But as they fled the Castle, the urgency of their flight was only underscored by the dark and thunderous night that accompanied it. Their feet splashed in rain, and their steps uneasy as they slid in the mud. Still, Xia and Eltrio pressed on.

Eltrio had left a note for his father, just before they’d left, with the barest explanation he could think of; but promising that they would return, when the dust had cleared, and they could be sure that Xia’s father wouldn’t follow.

Of course, even the best laid plans could go awry, and this one certainly did.

Xia was stopped in her tracks, her hand still in Eltrio’s, when her father appeared, as if by magic, before them. Eltrio dropped her hand almost immediately; and she noticed, hesitantly, his hand hovering over the blade sheathed at his side.

Xia reached out, to quell the part of Eltrio that she knew would fight – if her father forced him to.

She knew, that though her father threatened to tear them apart, she could not bear to watch the two men she loved most, fight, all because of her.

The mere thought of such a duel grieved Xia’s heart.

“This is foolish, young Prince,” muttered her father, while waving a hand in the air. “You will not best me, not with that flimsy weapon. Besides, I do not wish to fight you.”

“Then why don’t you leave us be?” appealed Eltrio, darkly. “We love each other. All we wish is to live, in peace, together.”

Finally, he took Xia’s hand again. He turned, to give her a smile; one she returned. She thought it was cruel that she would know such care, and love. Surely, she would never know it like this again, if it was to be torn from her grasp now.

“Because,” began her father, and it broke the young lovers’ attention away from one another, “it _cannot_ be.”

“But Father…”

Xia took a stride in front of Eltrio. Now, she stood on the precipice, between her father and the man she loved; already, she thought she knew how this story would end.

Still, she wished against such an ending, with everything in her heart.

“You do not understand, Xia,” argued her father, seemingly growing more agitated – as well as sad – as long as this conversation continued. “You do not understand how this will affect our world, as well as his.”

He held his hands up to her; a most solemn appeal in his eyes, if Xia had ever seen one.

It was how he’d looked at her on the day she’d told him of her wish to leave the Sanctuary. And when he’d expressed his displeasure, and forbade what he called a ‘foolish’ notion, she’d made the choice to disobey such rigid orders, anyway.

After all, as much as she loved her father, she loved the idea of freedom more.

And in that same freedom, she managed - somehow - to find the love of her life. Eltrio was a man who truly loved her too, even after she told him who she was and what she could do. It did not faze him; he did not care. In Xia's eyes, that made Eltrio more than special.

“But I love him,” Xia said; in her eyes, and Eltrio’s, it was as simple as that.

Why, she wondered, couldn’t anyone else understand that one thing?

“I know you do,” her father replied, with a nod of his head. “But there are things, you know, that come before love. This, I’m afraid, is one of them.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Eltrio said, coming to stand beside Xia. “Chen Mui, sir, I promise to never hurt your daughter; nor to ever reveal the secrets of her heritage. I will take those secrets to my grave. I swear it.”

But Xia already knew that, no matter _how_ he said it, no matter if she believed, and trusted, Eltrio with all of her heart, that her father, nor the Dragovian Elders would ever believe his word – the word of a _human_ – on the matter.

Her father’s tut of disappointment only served to prove this to Xia. He looked down at the ground, for a few moments, and then back to them.

In those eyes, though Eltrio wouldn’t know, Xia could see something familiar brewing.

It was magic. Magic that was passed down her line, for as long as anyone could remember; magic that had brought her here, and magic that would take her back, if her father willed it.

This was, she thought sadly, as she turned to Eltrio, inevitable.

“I have been ordered to bring you home; by any means, Xia,” said her father, mournfully. “I will not make this more difficult than it has already been; for both your sakes.”

Xia didn’t have a chance to react; to try and resist, before her father reached for her wrist. It all happened so quickly.

Before she could even tell Eltrio, one last time, that she loved him, the world – all she cared about in the world – fell away in an instant.

Her last image of her beloved Eltrio was of him, futilely, reaching for her.

But she was already gone.

* * *

_“Take my hand and let’s run away together. Please, take me away from here.”_

Medea smiled, feeling the wind flowing through her air, as she was led through a field of flowers, towards an awaiting carriage.

Her hero, not a prince in shining armour, but a hero all the same in unassuming garb, looked back at her, eyes shining and smile wide. Medea knew she too was grinning wildly – some might say, too wildly, for a woman of her stature.

But she did not care.

They were going, going, and now _gone_ , from the trappings of a marriage that would have sealed a truly unhappy fate. She was with the man she loved. She had loved him from their days as children, and loved him in the quiet moments she would speak with him when her transformation had taken all choice away from her.

But now. She loved him most _now_.

And she knew that he loved her too.

This, she was sure, was the happy ending she, and so many before her, had always longed for.

**Author's Note:**

> -Yeah, I didn't give Medea's grandmother a name. Nor the Prince *shrugs*
> 
> -I wanted to do something more with the last section, since that is the culmination of the two romances that have come before, but then I realised maybe that's why that section should actually be shorter? It's a beginning, but a happy one, and one that can't yet be mapped out.
> 
> -Anyway, to the two people in this fandom who read this; I thank you! :)


End file.
